Ravings of a Fevered Mind
by Miss Annabel Lenore Ragg
Summary: It's all fun and games until someone loses their marbles, then we have to send them to the mad-house. The Mad-House on Peckham Rye to be exact. A tale of insanity, tourture, tragedy, kindred spirits and rats. Eventual TobyxOC. Now rated M.
1. Prologue

_**Its all fun and games until someone loses their marbles...**_

A/N: Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Prologue **

Certificate of Insanity

Issued by

The Mad-House on Peckham Rye

Case Number : 365

Date of admission: March 13, 1847

First name: Tobias

Last name: Ragg

Age: 14

Gender: Male

Family: Unknown

Occupation: Employed at Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Emporium at 186 Fleet Street, London, England

Brought by whom: Mr. Oakley and Mr. Ingertire of the London Police

Form of insanity: Manic Depression

Suspected causes: Suspected traumatic event may have been abused, suspected alcohol abuse, and/or suspected genetic weakness; may be hereditary.

If suicidal: Yes

If dangerous to others: Yes

If destructive to property: Yes

State of bodily health: Numerous cuts and bruises which are suspected to be self-inflicted.

Marks of violence (if any): Suspected to have murdered Mr. Sweeney Todd of 186 Fleet Street, London, England by slitting his throat with a straight razor and has attempted to brutally attack asylum employees.

Facts on which opinion of insanity is founded: Claims to hear voices, experiences delusions and hallucinations. Claims to see and communicate to people whom are clearly not there. Mainly communicates to someone in which the patient refers to as "mum". Raves of gruesome murders and claims that the meat that was used by Mrs. Nellie Lovett in her pie shop was that of human flesh, which was supplied by Mr. Sweeney Todd. These claims are not verified and are merely put off as ravings of a fevered mind. Experiences numerous panic attacks and night terrors. Experiences boughts of melancholia in which the patient isolates himself for hours, sobbing and muttering to himself. These are interspersed with episodes of aggression in which the patient attempts to harm others as well as himself. Attempted suicide by slitting own throat.

Order signed by:

_Dr. J. Fogg_

* * *

My eyes slowly open as I begin to regain conciseness. As I become more awake, I realize that my head feels like its been run over, and the rest of me feels the same way. I close my eyes and try to remember the last thing that happened to me. I remember blood. Lots and lots of blood. I remember the smell of death that hung heavy in the air. I remember bodies everywhere. They were all dead. I remember a burning smell. The smell of burning flesh. It was mum. Mr. Todd had thrown her into the fire and I had let it happen. I told her nothing was gonna harm her, not while I was around. I start to cry. I let out a few audible sobs as I rock slowly back and forth. I had let my dearest mum die. I could never forgive myself for that. I wish I was the one who was dead.

I remember Mr. Todd. He was holding that beggar woman in his arms. I remember killing him. His blood made a big puddle on the floor. He deserved to die. He killed my mum. A growl of anger admits from my throat.

I remember the straight razor. Cold, silver, deadly. One slash and the demon was dead. Just one slash and I could have been dead, too.

I remember being drug away by some men. I remember screaming and lashing at them the whole time; grabbing at their throats and trying to knock them to the ground.

I open my eyes again and try to figure out where I am. As my eyes become accustom to the gloom, I realize that there are bars on the one lone window in the room and there is a large iron door. I then realize that that I have no use of my arms. I look down to see that I've been put in a straight-jacket. I slowly put the pieces of the puzzle together and realize that I've been locked in an insane asylum.


	2. Mad Boy

Hello fellow plague rats! I'm baaaack! =~D

Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 1: Mad Boy**

I've been trying to wriggle my way out of my straight-jacket for the last three hours, but to no avail. It's secured too tight. I attempt to get up, but lose my balance and fall back onto the floor. I roll around on the floor for a bit, trying to get back on my feet. After a few minutes I finally get back on my feet properly, more agitated than before. I lean against the cold wall, trying not to fall over again. I notice that the door to my cell has a small rectangular window in it at the top. I cautiously walk over to it. I try to look out, but I'm too short. I jump up to try to get a better look, but I still fall short. I kick at the door angrily.

"Let me out!" I scream. I kick at the door again.

"_I said, __**let me out**_!" I shout again.

"Shut up already, you wretch!" shouts a gruff voice from the other side of the door. I hear the jangle of keys, and the door slowly slides open. Before me stands Mr. Watson, a tall, muscular man who looks like he could easily kill me with one hand. I shrink back.

"If you don't bloody shut up, you're not gettin anything to eat!" he says angrily.

I hang my head, and realize how hungry I am.

"Now, will you be a good lad, and let me undo your restraints, _without _you trying to bolt away." He says sternly.

I nod somberly. "Yes, sir."

"Good, now you'll give me no funny business, right?"

I nod again. He roughly unties my straight-jacket and sets before me some bread and a jug of water. Once I'm free of my restraints, I begin eating my food greedily. I can't remember the last time I had anything to eat. Mr. Watson walks out of the cell and locks the door behind him.

After I have finished eating, I crawl over to the farthest corner of my cell. I lay down on a bit of straw that had been laid there and rest my head on my arm. I desperately miss my old bed. I miss how every night mum would tuck me in and kiss me goodnight. I can still hear her singing. Sometimes I think she's standing beside me, watching over me. I wipe the tears from my eyes and bury my face in my arms.

"I'm so sorry, mum." I sob, "I'm so sorry."

I stop crying and turn over onto my side, trying to compose myself to sleep. A few minutes pass. A few minutes turn into a half hour, then from a half hour into a full hour. I can't seem to fall asleep. I'm absolutely exhausted, yet much needed sleep still will not come. I sit up and sigh, running my fingers through my hair. The light from the window in the door just barely illuminates the cell. The bars that are fixed into it cast shadows across the floor and walls, making everything have a striped pattern, similar to that of the tattered shirt and trousers that I am wearing.

A lift my hand to my neck, running my fingers across the self-inflicted scar. Oh, if only I could of made the cut deeper! I had never before in my life contemplated suicide, but in that split second discussion it seemed like the only logical thing to do. The razor sat cold and heavy in my hand. I looked around the cellar room and surveyed the carnage. Everything came crashing down and when the police had barged in through the door I felt that ending my own life was the only thing left to do. Mum was dead and my murderous handy work was sitting in a pool of crimson on the floor. Everything that I held dear had been taken away from me. I had nothing left to live for. There was nothing that made me want to continue this pitiful existence any longer. The scenario quickly ran through my mind: they would find me guilty of murder and I would be hung for my crime. I told myself that I couldn't bare being led to the gallows, so my next choice was ending my own life. But, as I pressed the razor against my neck and letting it slide across my skin in the hopes of letting the blood come freely flowing, the instrument was ripped from my hands and I was drug here, to the Mad-House on Peckham Rye.

Everything is quite in my cell. A few low screams can be heard from farther off in the asylum every now and then, but everything else is quite. It's so lonely. There is not another soul in the entire asylum to lend company. Only madmen and asylum keepers.

I hear footsteps come up the hallway. They are light and quick, not heavy and plodding like Mr. Watson's. I can only imagine who they could belong to. I'd like to fancy that they are mum's and she's come to take me back home, but that's a silly notation, is it not? She is dead. But what if everything I have recollected is just part of a bad dream and she really is still alive? If it is though, then why am I still in this cell? Well, maybe her dieing was the only illusion and everything else here is real. Maybe she is still alive. The footsteps stop in front of my cell. Maybe it really is her. I walk over to the door and press my ear against it.

"Mum?" I say out loud. No answer. I ask again. Again, no answer. "Mum! I'm in here! Mum!" I shout, but nothing happens. I here the footsteps begin to retreat. "Mum! No! No! Mum, you can't leave me! No!"

I collapse into a sorry heap against the door and sob. It wasn't her. She's dead and gone.

* * *

A/N: The title of this chapter is kind of a bit of a parody of the song "Mad Girl" by the amazing and extremely talented Emilie Autumn. =~D


	3. Miss Lucy had Some Leeches

A/N: Me no own, you no sue. Oh, and to my dear Ravencaller, the reason the case files are so similar is because I used Emilie's as a kind of an outline for me. I found it on YouTube one day and was like "Hey, this gives me a great idea for a fanfiction!" And I suppose the rest is history.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 2: Miss Lucy Had Some Leeches**

I've estimated that I've been in this cell for a little over a week now, give or take a few days. The days just seem to roll by slowly as I hope that each day brings me closer to death. When you are in the dark pits of despair, the only thing you can hope for is a quick death.

About the second or third day, I began my so called "treatment"; if being poked and prodded with large needles is any sort of treatment. To tell the truth, it's not very pleasant; and I've learned that trying to fight your way out of it just causes you more pain and suffering. Yesterday (well, I _think_ it was yesterday) I had my head bashed against the wall by Mr. Watson because I wouldn't sit still. My head is still throbbing and my arms still hurt from being jabbed with needles for the 600th time.

I lie on the cold floor in the middle of my cell and watch as the shadows climb up the walls. As I watch they seem to change into monsters with razor-sharp teeth, ready and willing to ensnare me. I crawl to the far corner of my cell and hug my knees to my chest, as if this would some how protect me from my demons.

I sit here for a few hours. Everything is as quiet as the grave; until I hear a very strange sound. I listen for awhile and realize that it's the sound of someone singing.

"Mum?" I say in a whispered hush.

I listen harder and realize that it couldn't be mum's singing. It sounds more like that of a young girl's. I creep to the cell's door to try to get a better listen. I put my ear to the door, but the voice is still indistinct. I lean against the door and it opens a bit. I jump back, but the door doesn't open anymore. Mr. Watson must have forgotten to lock it the last time he threw me back into my cell. I slide the door open a bit and creep out. I look up and down the hall and see that there's not a soul there. I walk toward the direction of the sound and realize that it's actually _two_ people singing. As I edge closer I can make out what they are saying.

"_Miss Lucy had some leeches_," the voices sing, "_Her leeches like to suck, and when they drank up all her blood she didn't give a_

_Funny when the doctor had locked her in her cell, Miss Lucy screamed all night that they should go to bloody_

_Hello! To the surgeon, with scalpel old and blunt, he'll tie you to the table then mutilate your_

_Come its nearly teatime, the lunatic arrive, the keepers bleed them all until there's no one left a_

_Lively little rodents are eaten up by cats; we're subject to experiments like laboratory rats_

_I dropped a teacup, how easily they break; I'm on my hands and knees until I've paid for my mistake…"_

I shudder at the meaning of the lyrics. I walk over to the cell which the singing is coming from. I approach the door and knock on it.

"'Ello?" I mutter.

The singing stops and I hear a few hushed words. The door slowly slides open and a thin arm quickly pulls me in. I stumble into the cell as the door is shut behind me. I blink a few times and before me stand two girls, around my age.

"'Ello! I'm Miss Lucy!" says one enthusiastically.

"And I'm Miss Mary." says the other.

A/N: The lyrics to the song "Miss Lucy Had Some Leeches" belong to the amazing Emilie Autumn.


	4. Welcome to the Asylum

A/N: Finally! A new chapter up! All who review will get a muffin. All who don't review will get Bubonic Plague.

Finishing chapter is a bit of an early birthday gift to myself. (My birthday is on the 1st Sunday of the new year, by the way. Gifts of muffins, plague rats, chocolate zucchini cake, cheesecake, cherry cake, any type of cake at all really and arm warmers will be greatly appreciated.) Oh, and a Happy New Year to you all!

Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 3: Welcome to the Asylum**

"And I'm Miss Mary." said the other girl. I stare at the two of them blankly, no very sure how to react to a situation like this. Its not very often when one is drug into an insane asylum cell by two strange girls.

"'Wot's your name?" asks the girl who had introduced herself as Miss Lucy. She has light brown hair that partially hangs down over her face and big bright blue eyes. She's very skinny (Well, who wouldn't be, from living off a very feeble diet in an asylum.) and not very tall.

I go to open my mouth, but no words come out. I look around the cell, too embarrassed and a little bit frightened to make eye contact. I shuffle my feet and look down at the dirty floor.

"Cat got your tongue?" Miss Lucy says in a mocking tone. She advances toward me and I back toward the door.

"Lucy, enough, leave the boy alone. You're scaring him." says the girl who had earlier introduced herself as Miss Mary. Her facial features are very similar to that of Lucy's, but Mary's hair is a darker brown, almost black, with blue-grey eyes. She's also a bit taller than Lucy, but not by very much.

"Well, _sorry_. I just wanted to know what his name is. Gawh! You're so picky about every thing and telling me 'wot to do." Lucy says, throwing up her arms.

"Lucy, please, enough now. You're gonna wake up the entire asylum. Can't you be quiet for two seconds?" Mary says back.

Lucy glares back at her. "I so can be quiet for two seconds, watch!" Lucy closes her mouth tightly and taps her foot twice. "There. That was two seconds."

Mary shakes her head. "Lucy, it's a figure of speech. Please, can't you be stupid somewhere else and maybe try to keep it down a little."

Lucy glares at her again. "Fine, maybe I shall and maybe I won't ever talk again either. I'll just keep my mouth shut and you'll never have to hear another word out of me ever again." She crosses her arms and walks over to the far corner of the cell.

Mary smiles slightly and turns toward me. "That won't last long. Ah, younger siblings. Can't live with them, can't live without them. Now, would you be so kind to tell me your name?" she says.

I look up at her and shuffle my feet some more. "My n-name is T-Tobias. Tobias Ragg; b-but everyone c-calls me Toby." I stutter out. I shift my eyes to the side in embarrassment.

Mary smiles kindly at me. Her face then turns serious and she tilts her head to the side.

"'Wot's that on your throat?" she asks.

I feel my throat with my hand and remember the scar from my failed suicide attempt. "It's n-nothing." I say, turning away from her slightly.

"Come on now, it's nothing to be ashamed about." She then rolls up the sleeves to her dress to reveal an array of scars going up and down her arms. "I've tried it numerous times, which is partly the reason I'm here now, along with the fact that after my mum's death my father didn't want Lucy or I to inherited any of his money and also that I've suffered from fevers for most of my early childhood and everyone seems to think that this will some day cause me to snap and murder everyone in the household; but that's all water under the bridge now."

I stare at her in shock and terror and begin to back toward the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry if I frightened you." Mary says apologetically as she rolls her sleeves back down. "I mean you no harm, really; and neither dose Lucy…most of the time. Isn't that right, darling." she says, motioning to Lucy.

"I'm not _talking_ to you!" Lucy answers back, not turning around from where she is seated in the corner of the cell.

"Anyway," Mary continues, "We really mean you no harm. I suppose such a long time locked up has hindered are ability of proper and appropriate communication. I'm really sorry."

I stop attempting to retreat the cell and turn back toward her. I nod, accepting her apology.

She smiles at me and takes my hand. "Come, sit down for a bit." she says and leads me away from the entrance to the cell. She sits down and I sit across from her. "Not the most comfortable, but I suppose it shall do." she says, laughing at her own joke. "Now, 'wot brings you to The Asylum on Peckham Rye?"

I looked around the cell uncomfortably, not really wanting to answer her question.

"Come on now, I told you most of my story so its only polite for you to return the gesture." Mary says, leaning closer to me. "We want to here to here _your _story."

I look into her eyes and see the absolute sincerity in them. I realize that she can be trusted and maybe even be a friend. I swallow hard and take a deep breath.

"I- I killed a man." I finally blurt out.

I watch as a look of complete shock comes over Mary's face and Lucy even turns around with a look of shock also on her face.

"He, he killed my mum. He, he deserved to die! He deserved to burn in hell for everything he did! He killed my mum!" I sob and bury my face in my hands. I begin to cry. I can't help it. I feel the hot tears run down my face as I shake with every sob. I expect both of them to back away from me, claiming me a monster like everyone else; but Mary sits down next to me and wraps her arms around me.

"Oh, you poor thing," she says, stroking my back soothingly. "You poor thing."

I lean against her shoulder and continue to cry and she tightens her arms around me. It reminds me so much of when I would wake up from a nightmare and mum would come and try to comfort me. I take a deep breath and sit up, wiping the tears from my eyes.

"I'm really, really sorry, Toby. You don't need to say anymore." Mary says, letting go of her hold around me.

"I'm very sorry too. That must have been horrible." Lucy says, giving me a hug.

I smile at them, but something makes me want to continue my story. I guess from their kind treatment of me and the sincerity in their voices, I would feel bad if I didn't. I realize this just may help me cope. This is only the second time in my entire life I've been treated with real sympathy.

"I-its all right. I want to continue." I say.

I tell them everything. I tell them about the pies, Mr. Todd and mum. I even go to tell them about the horror known as the parish workhouse and working for Pirelli. They tell me about how after there own mother died when they were rather young, their father wanted rid of them, so they couldn't inherit his mass fortune. Mary tells me about her bouts of illness and how her own father would lock her in the cellar so he wouldn't have to hear her cries and how he would beat Lucy almost to death and of her own suicide attempts. His plan to send them both to an asylum came as a last resort. Lucy sits rather quietly, the most quiet I've seen her since we meet. I guess the though of her past plagues her too much to want to remember. I don't blame her. I know what its like to be treated like an animal. We talk for a long, time, how long I don't know; maybe a few hours, when I realize feeble a ray of light coming from the lone window in the cell.

"Oh, wow. Its morning already." Mary says, looking at the window. She turns to me. "You better be going before Mr. Watson or Dr. Fogg realize that your gone."

"I guess so. That might be a good idea." I say with a sigh.

"Well, it was wonderful talking to you. Nice to know we have friends in the asylum." Mary says.

"Good bye." I say. I turn toward the cell door, when I'm tackled from behind.

"Please come back soon!" Lucy says, giving me a bear hug.

"I…will…" I say, gasping for breath.

"Lucy, I think you are inhibiting his ability to breath." Mary says.

"Huh?" Lucy replies.

"You're suffocating him." Mary replies back dryly.

"Oh, sorry…" Lucy says, letting go of me and blushing.

"That's alright," I say trying to catch my breath., "I really must need to get going though, if I ever want to you again." I clearly know what kind of damage Mr. Watson could inflict if he found out I had gotten out of my cell. They wish me good bye. I carefully slide the door to the cell open and sneak back to my own cell.


	5. The Key

A/N: I'm sorry that its been such a long wait, my lovies. I hope this chapter is worth the anticipation.

Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 4: The Key**

I slip into my cell just as I hear Mr. Watson's heavy boots clanging against the stone floor down the hall. I close the door as quietly as I possibly can behind me and crawl over to my preferred corner of my cell. I lay down on the bit of damp straw laid there and pretend to be asleep. I hear the sound of Watson's boots becoming louder and I hold my breath. If he finds out what I've done; I'm dead. I wonder, if he finds that the door is unlocked, will he suspect that I'm the cause of it? Most likely. Even though it's physically impossible for me to unlock the door from the inside of my cell, he's not bright enough to figure that one out. I've never been the most intelligent, but he has the mental capacity of a sack of rocks.

The sound of his foot steps becomes increasingly louder and louder accompanied by the jingling sound of the large ring of keys he carries with him. Just as he come right in front of my cell door, he stops for a second, then moves on. He doesn't even attempt to check the door or peer through the barred opening in the top. I bet he didn't even give me a second thought. I breath a sigh of relief. I listen as his foot steps begin to fade away.

I lay at full length on the cool floor and put my hands behind my head; listening to the sounds of the asylum waking up. I hear the shouting of the other inmates accompanied by screaming, the crack of the carriage whip, a few painful moans, then followed by more shouting. The latter coming from Watson. I'm just thankful that its not me. This lasts for about an hour then things start to settle down again.

The rest of the day is spent laying on the floor; staring up at the leaky ceiling, listening the faint sounds of the asylum, and thinking. My thoughts drift off to the previous night. It's rather haunting how much I can relate to those two girls. The amount of pain one person can inflict on another sickens me. But, perhaps I have no room to talk. I after all have been labeled a murderer.

My thoughts always seem to eventually turn to that night. I'll never get those images out of my head. Nightmarish memories of death, decay and pain. I try as hard as I can to get it out of my head, but it keeps coming back. I turn over on my side and close my eyes tight.

The lack of sleep from last night is starting to catch up to me and I feel myself slipping into the dark solace of sleep.

I feel something hairy scurry across my face. I merely brush it off. I must still be dreaming. Again, I feel the same sensation crawling up my arm. I open my eyes and look into the beady black ones of a big, fat rat. I jump up and fling the creature across the cell. The rat hits the wall with a dull thud. It sits back up and brushes its face with its paw.

I stare at the rat in awe and terror in the feeble light that is coming from the torches that light the hall outside of my cell. As I look closer at the animal, I realize that there is a black ribbon tied around its neck and what looks like a tag attached to that. I know I've seen that ribbon before, but where?

I slowly approach the rat to see what is on the tag around its neck. I get close enough to see that the words "Follow Me." are written on it. The rat sits up on its hind legs an eyes me intently. It then scurries off, crawling through a small hole in the wall.

"How am I supposed to get through that?" I think to myself. I then remember that the door to my cell is still probably open. I carefully push the door, and it opens. I open the door the whole way and see Miss Mary standing before me.

"Good evening, Tobias. I see you 'ave met Master Edmund." she says, picking up the rat I had seen earlier, which was waiting patiently at her feet. She unites the ribbon around the rat's neck and puts the tag attached to it in the pocket of her dress. She then sets the rat on her shoulder and ties the ribbon up in her hair.

Before I have time to react, she takes me by the hand. "Come along now, Lucy is waiting for us." she says, leading me through the hallway to her own cell.

She opens up door to the cell, I cautiously follow her in and then she closes the door behind her. As soon as I get in, Lucy comes up and quite literally tackles me.

"So glad to see you again!" she says, hugging me.

"Lucy!" Mary says sharply. Lucy lets go of me, blushing.

"I'm sorry, just a bit overly excited, I suppose." she says, then goes over and stands next to her sister.

"We have something to show you." Mary says with a smile on her face. She nods to Lucy, who then walks over to the far wall of the cell. She removes a brick from the wall and pulls out a large piece of parchment and an iron key. She then hands the items to her sister.

"Sit down." Mary says to me, and I obediently take a seat on the floor.

They sit down next to me and Mary unrolls the parchment.

"Now," Mary begins, talking 'Master Edmund' off of her shoulder and putting him on the floor, "this is a copy of the exact floor plans of the asylum; and this is the key that opens the three main gates that guard the asylum. 'ow we got in possession of these items is a rather long story which you needn't worry your pretty little head over. Now, we are situated in the west wing…"

"Wait, wait, hold on a second. 'Wot are you talking about? 'Wot does this all mean?" I ask, interrupting. I'm very puzzled by this whole situation.

"My dear Tobias, we are going to make our escape from this dreaded hell hole." Mary replies with a sly smile on her face.

A smile lights up my face. I don't think I've ever been quite so happy in my life. "Are, are you serious?" I blurt out.

Mary takes my hand in hers and pats it gently. "Of course, silly boy. Do you think I would lie about something as grand as this?" She replies, "Now, back to business. As I said before you interrupted me, we are situated in the west wing of the asylum. There, of course, if also the east, north, and south wings. Our plan is to make our escape four days from today, which is when the annual inspection takes place. This is merely a bunch of bloody rigged bull shit so Dr. Fogg can keep this wretched establishment open for another year. The inspection is done by a Dr. Popplejoy who is about as blind as a bat, older than dirt and as daft as a pile of sand.

"Our wing is always the last to be inspected, which gives us plenty of time to make our escape. Fogg and Watson will be busy with the other inmates so well won't 'ave to worry about them. We will make our way through this wing and into the main lobby at the front of the asylum. From there we go outside which opens up to a large court yard. Then, we go through each of the gates and onto freedom."

Mary sits back and sighs contently. I'm much too over come with joy to say anything.

"Isn't this so exciting!" Lucy says smiling. I nod mutely.

"Yes, it is." her sister replies. Mary then wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tightly.

"We'll finally be free." she whispers. She then kisses me shyly on the cheek. She removes her arms from around my neck and places her hands on my shoulders. She hugs me again and giggles, very much over come by joy. Lucy come up to her sister from behind and flings her arms around her neck, giggling as well. We sit staring happily at each other. I'm feeling rather euphoric.

"Now, you best be getting back to your cell." Mary says finally.

I nod dumbly as she helps me on my feet again. Lucy waves goodbye to me shyly and I return the gesture.

"I'll follow you to your cell." Mary says as I begin to open the door. "I'll make sure your door is locked this time." she says with a sly smile.


	6. Leech Jar

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 5: Leech Jar**

There is only two more days left until we make our escape. I don't think I've been so happy or excited in my life. I can't wait to be free of this place. I've already started to forget what the world was like _outside _of my cell.

At night I've been conferring with Mary and Lucy on the last minute details of our plan. In a whispered hush, Mary goes over again and again the different corridors and rooms of the asylum and when the best time would be to leave with the lest likelihood of being caught, while Lucy bounds about the cell giggling manically. Mary must keep telling her to keep it quiet, for fear of Dr. Fogg or Mr. Watson finding out what we are up to. The keys to the asylum are safely in their possession and as of now, Fogg and Watson are completely oblivious of our plan. It really does look like everything will go according to plan. I can't wait to get out.

The sun has just begun to rise as a few feeble rays of light filter through the barred window of my cell. Watson has already been around to give us breakfast and give the more unruly inmates a sound beating. I've been put in my straight-jacket, which can mean only one thing: it's treatment day.

The door to my cell slides open and Mr. Watson stands in the doorway. "Get up." he says harshly.

I shakily stand up and walk toward the entrance of the cell. Watson roughly grabs me by the throat and fastens the leather choking-collar around my neck. He takes the leather strap fastened to the collar in his hands and drags me through the corridors of the asylum like a dog. As I look about me at the winding hallways and doors we pass, I recall each one of them from the plan of the asylum Mary showed me and go though our plan in my head. Each door and hallway bringing me closer to our escape and impending freedom that is all soon to come.

Watson finally leads me into the exam room. The room has a high, cathedral ceiling. On the walls are strange looking medical instruments. Amputation knives, drills for conducting brain surgeries, and the like, as well as other instruments that I cannot even begin to speculate their uses. On the shelves are vials of strange looking liquids, jars of preserved specimens of God knows what and jars of leeches. Hundreds of jars of writhing, blood sucking leeches. In the center of the room is the exam table fitted with restraints and in the far left corner stands Dr. Fogg; a tall, thin, balding man in a white, stained lab coat.

Dr. Fogg picks up a clipboard from a table, glances at it, then looks directly at me.

"Ah, case number 365, Tobias Ragg." Dr. Fogg says. "Delusions, hallucinations, night terrors, panic attacks, general ravings, even an attempted suicide. And so young, too. Such a sad case indeed. 'ow 'as he been getting along, Watson?"

" He seems to 'ave become more quiet than usual, sir. He doesn't go on for hours at a time with his mad ravings as he used to. He is still subjected to panic attacks, though." Watson answered .

"Hmm, perhaps we are making some progress 'ere? Very good, very good." Dr. Fogg says, writing something down on the clipboard. " 'ow are you doing this morning, Tobias?"

I back away a bit and turn my head to the side. I don't even want to look at that cruel, sick, sorry excuse for a doctor, let alone answer him.

"Don't feel like talking, do ya?" Dr. Fogg says "Well, let's start with the treatment then, shall we?"

I have become used to the "treatments" (if that term can even be used to describe them) by now. It's a very sad state when one has become accustomed to something like that. I supposed that I've made it a little bit better for myself that I barely cringe at the large needles or fuss over the leeches.

I sit down on the cold metal table and Watson begins to loosen the straps on my straight-jacket. Something, though, just doesn't seem right. I don't know what it is. I have this strange, sinking feeling in my stomach, and I don't know why. Watson takes the straight-jacket off of me and throws it down on the floor. I glance over to the side and see Dr. Fogg preparing the syringes.

"Now just lay back and let me strap ya to the table." Mr. Watson says to me.

I stay in my present position and stiffen up, gripping onto the table. I look down at the tiled floor, and then look back up at Watson.

"Come on lad, don't make this 'arder than it 'as to be." he says.

I still do not respond to him. My eyes shift from side to side. I can't take it anymore. I just need to get out of here! I release my grip from the table and jump down. I dart away from Mr. Watson's direction and make my way for the door. Watson whirls around to see me fleeting for the door in mute shock. I hear the syringe Dr. Fogg was preparing crash to the floor.

"Watson! You dumb brute! Get 'im!" Fogg shouts.

Just as I step out the door, Watson grabs me by the collar.

"Were do you think you're going, lad?" Watson asks slyly, picking me up off the ground.

I know exactly where I'm going; and it's far, far away from here. I try to wriggle my way out of his grasp, but it's no use. His grip is far too tight. "Let me go!" I shout at him.

" I don't think so." He says shaking his head.

"Please, just let me go! Let me go!" I shout at the top of my lungs. I try wriggling my way out again. I try kicking and punching at him. "Let me go!"

"Would you knock it off, you fucking urchin!" he yells, shaking me.

I keep persistent. One of my punches just nearly misses his face. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me…"

"Would you shut up already!" he says. He looks me hard in the face and then bashes my head against the brick wall. I feel my head make contact with the wall and a sharp pain go through my skull.

He lifts me up to eye level and looks me hard in the face again. "Well, are we done?"

I shake my head slowly. "No…just let me go. Let me go. Let me go…" I say groaning. My head hurts so badly.

"' Wot the fucking 'ell is it going to take to get you to keep quiet." he says snarling. "Well, maybe this finally will." He then takes me and throws me against the wall. Again, and again, and _again_. He lets go of me and I slide to the floor, hitting the ground hard. My head hurts even worse now. It feels like the room is spinning around me. My vision starts to blur. I hear footsteps but I can't make out where they're coming from. Everything is becoming so indistinct. I feel the sharp pinch of a needle in my neck and everything goes black.

"Toby. Toby! Wake up. Please, please wake up. Just please wake up. Toby, please wake up…"

The voice seems so distant and indistinct. I open my eyes a tiny bit, then quickly shut them again. The pain hits me like a bag of bricks. It's not just my head that hurts now; _everything_ hurts. Every breath I struggle to take feels like someone is stabbing me in the chest. I open my eyes again, more completely now. My eyes quickly adjust to the dim light. I look up and see Mary hovering over me. She puts on a pained smile and brushes her hand across my face. I can see that she had been crying.

"Oh, Toby…" she says, her voice starting to falter.

I turn my eyes from her and look around the room. Something strikes me as odd; there is no window in the room. I look at the door which is slightly ajar and there is no small barred window in the top. Beyond the door, I can just make out a flight of stairs in the dim light coming from a torch on the wall. This can't be my cell. This isn't making any sense to me.

"W-w-where am I? This-this isn't my c-cell." I barely murmur out.

"I know, Toby, I know it's not." Mary says softly.

"B-b-but where am I?" I ask again. I want to know where they put me now.

Mary lets out a shaky sigh and caresses my face. "You're in solitary confinement. It's where they put the worst of the worst inmates."

I close my eyes and whimper softly. I guess beating me almost to death wasn't good enough for them.

I hear foot steps to the left of me. I look to the side and see Lucy kneel down beside me. I then hear the light pitter-patter of feet, which belong to Master Edmund Rottendam. The rat jumps unto Lucy's lap and eyes me intently with his beady black eyes.

"I can't believe they did this to you." Mary says shaking her head.

"I can." Lucy says coldly, stroking Master Edmund.

"I suppose you are right; very right." Mary replies. "But why? And with so close to inspection day, too. You would think that they would want to 'ave all the inmates to be in reasonable 'ealth. Why, just why?"

I know exactly why. I realize now that it was such an idiotic move to try to escape then and there. I should of just went along with the treatment as I usually do. I just needed to get out. I just couldn't take it anymore. I'm so stupid! This is going to compromise our entire plan for escape. I really don't want to tell them this, though. I try to sit up, but I'm met with another severe onslaught of pain.

"Easy, easy; you really shouldn't try moving too much." Mary says, helping me lay back down on the cold stone floor. "You 'ave at lest a few broken ribs and a concussion at best. Can you move your 'ands and arms for me?"

I move my arms slightly and tap my fingers against the floor. I lift my hand and touch my face, which I find is sticky with blood.

"Well, at lest you can move them, 'ow do they feel? Do they 'urt at all?"

"Not really." I say.

"All right, 'ow about your feet and legs?"

My left leg feels fine for the most part, but my right leg I can't move at all. It hurts far too much.

Mary sighs. "Well, then it's most likely broken. Great, just great…"

I close my eyes and swallow hard. "Will-will we still be able to get out?" I ask. With the way I feel now, I think I'll be lucky if I'll be able to make it through the night.

"I 'ope so Toby, I 'ope so. We are going to do everything we can to get you out of 'ere, before they 'urt you again. We 'ave to get you out of 'ere." Mary says, taking hold of my hand and squeezing it gently. Lucy moves a bit closer to me and does the same. Edmund even shows his sympathy by placing his furry little face against my hand. It makes me feel a little bit better to know that I have people looking out for me.

Mary brushes my blood soaked hair away from my face. "We 'ave to go now before Mr. Watson or Dr. Fogg find out that we're gone, all right? We're going to try to get you out of 'ere, I promise." She then places a kiss on my cheek and stands up. "Come on Lucy, we 'ave to go."

Lucy gets up and follows her sister, but not before telling me good-bye. I can hear her voice has a tinge of sorrow in it. She takes Edmund in her hands, but he jumps out and scurries over to me and curls up beside my neck.

"Edmund! Come! It's time to go! Do you _want_ us to get caught?" Lucy says crossly.

"Aww, I think he wants to keep Toby company. Let him be, sister." Mary says.

"All right, fine. Edmund, you better take good care of 'im" Lucy says.

I reach over and scratch Edmund on the head. He squeaks at me and nudges me with his nose. He then lays back down next to me.

I hear their fleeting foot steps and the door closing; leaving me in complete darkness with the rat and the fear that I might not make it out of the asylum alive.


	7. The Gate

A/N: Back! And now rated M for much more morbid manic madness! (And I'm sorry, but, "M" does not stand for muffins or marmalade.)

Oh, and I give all the credit for the name of our favorite rat to Ravencaller. Thank you so much. =)

Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 6: The Gate**

I don't know how long I've been laying here. Maybe a few hours or even up to a day, I really don't know. Everything is blur. Since there is no window in the cell, I have no idea what time of day it is. The room is completely pitch black. There is no difference from when I close my eyes to when I open them.

The pain in my head, sides, and leg has gotten considerably worse, to the point were it is getting unbearable. Even the slightest intake of breath is unbelievably painful and my head feels like it's going to burst. I massage my temples with the tips of my fingers, but it's no help. I want so badly for the pain to go away.

I press my hands against the floor and force myself to sit up. The pain in my sides increases, but I continue to straighten out my arms until I'm sitting straight up. I become lightheaded, and I have a nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach. I close my eyes tightly and try as hard as I can to fight it off. Those feelings slowly start to subside and I open my eyes I again. My eyes scan across the cell, searching for even the smallest ray of light. I find none; everything is as black as pitch.

Since I've gotten as far as sitting up, I have decided to see if I can stand. I bend my left leg towards me and begin to push myself up off the ground with my arms. I go to move my right leg to begin to stand up, and discover that I've made an idiotic error. In being so caught up in trying to get myself up off the ground, I have forgot about my injured leg. The moment I begin to bend my leg, a searing pain shoots up it. I collapse back onto the ground, hitting my head. I roll over on my side and begin to cry. Every shaky sob makes my ribs hurt ten times worse, but I just can't help it. It hurts _so_ badly and I'm getting so frustrated!

I try to calm myself down and steady my breathing in an attempt to keep my sides from aching so badly. I slowly crawl across the cell floor until I hit a wall. I shakily pick myself up off the floor and sit against the wall; reclining my achy head against the cold, damp bricks.

I hear a squeak and the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. It's Master Edmund. Because of the darkness, I cannot see his form, but I feel him jump onto my lap. From there he climbs up my arm, then onto my shoulder, then atop my head, and back again; cheerily squeaking at me the entire time. I try so hard not to laugh. With his presence and amusing antics, I forget my desperate situation for a moment; but for a single moment only. He jumps back down onto my lap and I pass my hand over his smooth fur.

I hear the door to the cell slowly creak open and Mary steps in. She put the torch she has in her hand in a holder on the wall. I shield my eyes with my hand for a moment until they adjust to the light. From being in complete darkness, even the dim light from the torch hurts my eyes.

"I brought you some water. It's the best I could do." She says, walking toward me and then setting a small clay jar beside me. She kneels down and gives Edmund a pat on the head, then quickly gets back up.

"I 'ave to get going. I'll come back when I can." she says hurriedly and walks back towards the door.

'I'll come back when I can.'; what's that supposed to mean? And why is she so hurried? I could hear a tinge of anxiety in her voice, but I have not a clue why.

"Mary, wot's wrong?" I call after her.

"Oh, it's nothing. Don't worry about it. I really must go." she answers back without even turning around.

"Mary, _wot's wrong_?" I ask again, more boldly. I am determined to get an answer out of her.

She finally turns around and shakes her head. "Fine" she says with a sigh, "Both Fogg and Watson are in a very, erm, disagreeable mood. They've been patrolling the corridors constantly. It took me hours to find an opportunity to sneak out. Now, I really _need_ to be going."

She then quickly spins back around and walks towards the door. She takes the torch out of its holder on the wall and walks out of the cell, closing the door swiftly but quietly behind her.

I stare blankly into the darkness, piecing together what Mary has just told me. Does Dr. Fogg's and Mr. Watson's actions mean that they have found out about our plan? And if so, how? I ponder this for a few moments when it hits me; it's my fault. My foolish actions in the examination room must have clued the off. Now, I've really done it. I know I'll surely be killed sooner or later, but I can't help but to think that Mary and Lucy will be subjected to the same terrible fate. And it's all my fault. But, then again, it has _always _been my fault. It's my fault that Mrs. Lovett, my mum, the person who I cared for and loved more than life itself is now nothing more than a pile of ashes. If only I were more careful. If only I paid more attention and was smarter, then none of this would of ever happened. But, what's the use of looking back at the things I could have done, when I know that it's impossible to turn back time. Right now I'd be better off dead. I don't even care to escape now, because I know it would be so much better for me to die and be out of my misery. The world is better off without another monster. I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes; letting the tears run down my face and praying that my heart stops beating.

"Toby. Toby! Wake up!"

I open my eyes to find Lucy splashing cold water on my face and Mary shaking me.

"Huh? Wot?" I mumble, still coming into consciousness.

"We're leaving. Now come on." Mary says, taking me by the hand.

I shake my head. "No. I'm not going." I say softly. I've already persuaded myself that I'm better off dead and nothing is going to change that.

"Wot? Wot are you talking about?" Mary asks, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm not going. I'll just slow you down. Go on without me."

"Toby! Wot's gotten into you?" She says and looks at me questionably. She places the back of her hand against my forehead for a few seconds and sighs. "No wonder you're acting delusional." She says and shakes her head sorrowfully.

"Isn't he always?" Lucy mutters to herself.

"Lucy…" Mary says sternly.

"Sorry."

"Now, enough with this foolishness. 'ere, let me 'elp you up."

Mary takes me by the arms and helps me up. When I finally get on my feet, I start to feel dizzy. I can feel myself losing balance. Mary quickly grabs hold of me to keep me from falling; which causes me to yelp from the pain she has caused to my broken ribs.

"Oh! I'm sorry." she says and moves her arms up my torso. I lean against her and close my eyes, waiting for the room to stop spinning.

"It's all right, Toby, I got you. It's all right." Mary whispers softly in my ear and rubs my back soothingly. Her sweet, musical voice and gentle touch are really making me want to go back on my earlier thoughts. My head finally stops reeling and I pull away from her. I look into her pretty blue-gray eyes as she passes her fingers through my hair.

"Are you ready now?" Mary asks. I nod a yes.

I place my arm around her shoulder and she places her arm carefully around my waist. She then leads me across the cell with Lucy and Master Edmund beside us. Lucy opens the cell door wide enough for us to get though, revealing a very steep flight of stairs; steeper than I had originally thought. I swallow hard.

"Now, we're gonna take this one step at a time, all right." Mary says, turning her head towards me. I nod, uneasily. I carefully ascend the first step.

" I got you. I'm not gonna let you fall, I promise. That wasn't so bad, though, huh?" Mary says.

We slowly ascend one step after another until we reach the top; the main floor of the asylum. Lucy is the first to step out into the hallway. She looks to each side and nods, showing that the coast is clear. Mary and I then follow.

We make are way as quietly as possible through the numerous winding corridors, when we hear the sound of voices and foot steps in front of us. Mary quickly pulls Lucy and I into an empty, darkened cell as we wait to see who is coming down the hall.

"Oh, yes, Dr. Popplejoy," Dr. Fogg says to the elderly man walking beside him. "It's a very sad case indeed. Truly so very sad. It's insanity at its absolute worst. We have the poor lad put in solitary confinement for the time being. I'll take you to see him now."

I can tell that they are talking about me. I merely scoff. Won't they be surprised when they find out that the cell is empty.

After they pass, we enter the hallway again. As we go through more hallways and corridors, I hear the cries and sickening moans of the other inmates. I feel so bad for them. I wish I could give them all a chance to escape, but there is just not enough time. There is barely enough for us to make are own escape. But I can't help but to think how many of them; like Mary, Lucy and myself; have been wrongly imprisoned in this wretched establishment? Or how many of them are truly insane and are not getting the care they need? I shutter at the thought.

We continue walking until we reach the lobby. From here we pass through a set of wooden doors and outside into the courtyard. It seems like it has been an eternity since I've been outdoors. It's such a nice change to have fresh, cool air enter my lungs. I look up at the twilight sky and smile to myself. I look around me to see a gigantic stone wall surrounding the mad-house. It must be at least three stories high. Straight ahead of us is a massive iron gate with hideously pointed peaks. We stop in front of it and Mary turns to Lucy.

"The key?" she says, holding out her hand.

"The key. The key. The key?" Lucy says, franticly searching the pockets of her dress.

"Lucy, don't tell me that you forgot the key." Mary says sternly to her sister.

Lucy continues to search, when Master Edmund Rottendam climbs out of one of her pockets with the key in his mouth.

"'ere it is!" Lucy exclaims triumphantly, taking the key from the rat. Mary harshly grabs the key from her sister and looks at her in disgust.

"If you weren't my little sister, I swear I'd…"

"Tobias! Where are you!" I hear Dr. Fogg cry out. "Come out, come out where ever you are!"

"Where are you, you little fucking bastard!" Watson yells, in turn.

"Oh, how wonderful..." Mary grumbles, starting to panic. She quickly puts the key in the lock and turns it. The sound of grinding gears and loosening bolts fills the air. With a groan, the gate opens and we step through. We hear the first gate slam shut as we proceed to the second gate. We then hear the shouting of Dr. Fogg and Mr. Watson and their futile attempt to open the first gate in this seemingly impenetrable fortress. The second gate is now open and before us stands the third and final gate. We're almost their. Just as we are reaching the last gate, we hear the first one open. My heart stops. I know now that we are truly done for. Just as the third gate is beginning to open, we hear the second gate opening as well. I can hear Dr. Fogg's and Mr. Watson's shouts as we quickly go through the last gate.

I can no longer keep up with Mary and Lucy's swift pace on one leg, so instead I let them drag me along to the wooded hillside not far off. The mad-house keepers' shouts can still be plainly heard.

After about an hour of maneuvering through the forest, we stop. Everything is as quiet as the grave.

"I- I- I- I think we've lost 'em." Lucy says, out of breath. Mary nods and helps me to sit down. I'm exhausted. I can feel the pain creeping in again in my rib cage, and it's getting worse. Even worse than before. I hold my hands to my sides and grimace. My vision is starting to blur and everything is closing in around me. As I'm letting myself slip into pain induced unconsciousness, I can't help but to triumphantly think that I've finally escaped from the mad-house on Peckham Rye.


	8. Cold

**A/N: **Hello again and welcome to the next installment of 'Ravings of a Fevered Mind'. I know you've been waiting. Enjoy!

Me no own, you no sue.

**Ravings of a Fevered Mind**

**Chapter 7: Cold**

An absolute bone-chilling damp cold is almost all that I can feel in every fiber of my body. The numbing cold is even more prominent than the pain in every bone and joint. I dare not open my eyes, figuring that this is the better option for me. The only thing that I am aware of is the cold, the pain, and a few hushed voices that I am much too exhausted to concentrate on at the moment.

I hear a rustling. The rustling sound of wind through tree branches. Tree branches… we're in a forest. Why? I'm forgetting something. Wind, trees, forest. What's after? Why am I not remembering this? Something is coming back. A dark room. Bars, chains, needles, brick walls. Asylum. That's right. I've escaped from an insane asylum. It all comes rushing back now. That's why I'm here. That's why I'm in all this pain.

I hear voices again. They sound more distinct and oddly familiar. I now recognize one voice, which is that of Mary's. She sounds worried and slightly angry.

"If we stay out 'ere in this cold he's not gonna last much longer." she says sternly.

"But I don't wanna. It's dark and scary out there." replies the second voice. I recognize this one as Lucy's. Her tone is frightened and anxious.

"And your point is? Would you rather see him die?"

"No, but…but why can't you go instead?"

"Because I have to stay here with Toby."

"But why can't I?"

"Because I said so. Now I'm your older sister and you are going to do as I say."

"But…"

"No more buts. I say some smoke to the west. It's probably from someone's chimney on their house. We can probably get some help there. Now _go_!"

There is a moment of tense silence before Lucy finally replies "Fine." and stomps off into the distance.

I don't think that I've ever felt quite so miserable, defenseless, and desperate before in my entire life. Why did all of this have to happen? Why couldn't of I died in the asylum, instead of slowly suffering in this cold, damp forest? It would be more humane.

I hear Mary sigh and she comes and sits down next to me. She puts her arms gently around me and rests her head against mine.

"It's gonna be all right, Toby, I promise. You're gonna be all right."

I think she says this more to herself than to me, but I can't help but to wish that in the end she's right. I'd give anything in the world to make this all go away.

* * *

A dark gray mist swirls across my vision forming itself into unfamiliar shapes, then dissolving back into one great mass. I am aware that I am laying down, and on something quite soft and comfortable, too. Something that I am not very familiar with. Have I finally died and gone to heaven? No, that cannot be right, because I do not think that heaven is where I am headed. Now here comes the pain, like a huge wave that I cannot outrun. Now this is sensation that I am all too familiar with. Maybe this is hell. I do feel quite warm.

A strange buzz fills my ears. It sounds far off, but increases to get closer and more distinct. They buzz now becomes voices. At first, they all seem melded together, but now they begin to become more individual and distinct.

"Look. Look! I think he's waking up!" eagerly states one. The voice is high-pitched, that of a young girls and ever so familiar.

"Shh, shh hush now. We don't want to startle him." says another. This voice is soothing comforting, caring and soft. I believe it is that of a woman of perhaps no older than thirty years of age. This one is unfamiliar to me.

"Back off a bit now, would ya. Give the boy some room to breath." This third voice is gruff but not completely harsh and seems to be the closest to me.

I finally open my eyes, slowly at first because the light they let in is far too garish for me. When I open them to their full extent they reveal a bedroom with slate colored walls and wine colored curtains. I find that I am laying on a bed of brown colored blankets and far too many pillows for one person. The curtains of the bed which match those on the walls are drawn back to reveal a row of eager looking faces. What is this place? Where am I? I feel a nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Hovering over me is gray-haired man in a black suite, eyeing me intently. I don't like the sight of him.

"'Ello lad. How are you feeling?" he asks.

How am I feeling? Like I've been trampled by a carriage, that is how I'm feeling. But, instead of answering him, I reply with a question of my own.

"Who, who are y-you?" I barely mutter. I can't get my voice above a faint whisper.

The man stands up straight and replies: " I am Dr. Frances Grimwig, the local surgeon. "

A doctor. No wonder I didn't like the sight of him. Ever since first meeting that scoundrel, Dr. Fogg, I have made a vow to never trust another doctor again. How could I ever again trust another with the same title as the one who brutally tried to kill me? I'd rather assume that all of them are in the same ranks. I detest them almost as much as Mr. Todd. Those names bring back so many painful memories. I just want to forget them all, but they won't go away. I look back up at the doctor and want nothing more than to be out of here. I go to sit up, but not minding my numerous injuries, I am meet with a reemergence of pain and collapse back onto the bed. All I can do is cry. I can't help it anymore. Each gasp and sob makes my ribs feel like they are going to shatter, but right now I could care less. I close my eyes as tight as I can and pull at my hair. Maybe if I wish hard enough this whole scene with fade away. I want all of this to be over. I want it to be some bad dream that I will soon wake up from and mum will take me in her arms and tell me that everything is all right. But, no, none of that is going to happen. Mum is gone and I've some how ended up in an unfamiliar house.

I open my eyes again to see almost everyone retreating the room except for one person; a woman of perhaps thirty with pale skin, brown eyes, and auburn hair neatly tied into a bun. She approaches the bed and kneels down beside it.

"Ello there. It's all right." she says softy. I recognize her voice from one of those I heard before. She extends her hand towards me, but I shy away from it. I'm not feeling very trusting at the moment.

"Oh, it's all right. I'm not going to harm you, I promise. I'm Clara Endell. This is my house. You're safe here, I promise you that." She smiles softly to me and I give her a slight smile in return. I guess I can trust her. She brushes the hair away from my face and says "You look exhausted. I should let you go back to sleep. If you need anything, just let me know. Pleasant dreams."

She then stands back up, extinguishes the candle on the table and exit's the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. Too tired to keep my eyes open another moment, I quickly fall asleep.

* * *

I've been at this residence a little over a week now, I suppose. I'm not quite sure, though; most of the time I've been asleep. I don't think I've ever slept so much in my life. To tell the truth, it's actually quite nice. Mrs. Endell is a most kind care taker. The same goes for her maid, a Miss Nancy Kingsley who has taken charge of watching over me at night. I am forever grateful for the both of them.

The doctor comes every other day to check on my progress. He seem like a kind enough gentleman, but I still feel uncomfortable during his visits. Demons come in many forms. He says that my injuries are now beginning to heal. A very slow and painful progression, but progress none the less. A low grade fever still plagues my system.

I haven't seen very much of either Mary or Lucy, but Mrs. Endell says that they come to see me every day; but I am always asleep. I miss the both of them dearly. I even miss Master Edmund, that dear rat.

The door to my room opens and in walks Mrs. Endell carrying a small silver tray.

"Good morning, Tobias. How are you feeling?" she asks cheerily.

"Umm, tired, really." I reply.

She merely smiles and sets the tray down on the nightstand. On the tray is an array of bottles of different shapes and sizes and two glasses. It's medication time. She helps me sit up in bed, propping up the pillows behind me. She then begins to pour the contents of several different bottles into one glass and precedes to hand it to me. Inside the glass is a mud-colored mixture with the most bitter odor. I turn my head in disgust.

"Come on now, dear. We've gone through this before. Just drink it down and it will all be over with soon enough." she says.

I look at the glass, then to her, then back to the glass. I really don't want to do this. I sigh and take the medicine at a single draught. I shutter violently and hand the glass back to her. Gawh, that stuff is vile! She then hands me a glass of water which I gratefully take from her and quickly drink down.

"There, all better." she says, taking the now empty water glass from me and ruffling my hair.

There is a knock at the door and Mrs. Endell goes to see who it is. She opens the door slightly and then turns to me saying "Are you feeling well enough to have some company?"

I nod yes, and running in through the door comes Mary and Lucy. Jumping onto the bed with me, they put their arms around me tightly, nearly suffocating me.

"Be easy with him now, girls." Mrs. Endell says from the doorway. They release their hold of me only slightly.

"Oh, Toby, we've been so worried about you. We've missed you so much." Mary says.

"I've… missed you… too." I am barley about to choke out.

Lucy lets go of me momentarily and takes out of her dress pocket Master Edmund Rottendam. The rat jumps from her hands and onto my lap, nudging his nose against my hand and squeaking cheerfully.

Lucy giggles. "I think that Edmund has missed you, too."

I pick up the rodent and set him on my shoulder, giving him a small pat on the head.

"How are you feeling?" Mary asks.

Oh, this really must be the question of the day.

"Eh, a little bit better, I guess. I'm just really tired." I reply.

"Aw, poor dear." Mary says, running her fingers through my hair and giving me a kiss on the temple. Lucy puts her arms back around me leans against me. Mary does the same.

"Mary, Lucy, I 'ave something I want to tell you." I say.

"Wot is it, dear?" Mary says, sitting up.

"I- I'm sorry about the way I acted the other day. I don't know what got into me. I used to never act like that. Not since…"

I stop mid-sentence. I don't want to think about that.

"Toby, that's all right, love. There's nothing to be sorry about." Mary says.

"No, no. I've never just completely broke down like that, all out of the blue, like. I feel like, like…" I can't find the words to describe it. "I 'ave this feeling that something is not quite right with me." I begin to feel shaky. I don't like this.

"Calm down, love. It's all right. There's nothing wrong with you. You're just going through a rough time right now, that's all. You'll be okay." Mary says, smoothing back my hair.

I shake my head and lean against her shoulder. I want to believe her, I really do.

"Come on now, Toby. Just take it easy."

"Yeah, you're gonna be all right." Lucy chimes in.

I guess maybe they are right. Maybe I'm just over reacting. It must be the fever. I sit up again and give them a small, reassuring smile. They smile back. Yes, I just need to keep telling myself that everything is going to be just fine.


End file.
